


Guilt is a funny thing.

by secret170193



Category: POTTER Beatrix - Works, Peter Rabbit (2018)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Guilt Trip, Peter is regretful, Thomas gets hurt, Warning for a small amount of blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-01 08:56:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13994862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secret170193/pseuds/secret170193
Summary: One of Peter's pranks goes too far and Thomas pays for it.





	Guilt is a funny thing.

**Author's Note:**

> I just saw this film 12 hours ago and it kicked my writing into gear so have this little fic while I try to get my brain to stay motivated~

“Do you really think we should be doing this? He’s going to get mad and you know it!”

Benjamin followed his eager cousin up onto the roof of the McGregor house, carrying a vine of old tomatoes. Peter spun around in neat little hops, grinning at the lop-eared rabbit, narrowly avoiding slipping on the tiles.

“It’s just a harmless prank, come on, where's your sense of humour?”

Benjamin rolled his eyes, finally catching up to Peter as they reached the peak of the roof. Peter peered down the other side where Thomas McGregor was diligently cleaning out the messy guttering, using gloved hands to scoop wet leaves out, dropping them down the side of his ladder. Peter took one of the tomatoes, balancing it on the edge of the roof.

“Ten points for the body, twenty for his face.”

Benjamin gave his cousin a worried look, cautiously keeping his balance on the ridge of the roof.

“Careful, Peter. It’s a really long way down.”

Peter scoffed, balancing his rear paw on the tomato.

“I’ve been up here hundreds of times, do you really think I’m going to-..”

The tomato split suddenly under Peter's weight, flying out from under his paw into Thomas's head. Peter, unbalanced and struggling to grip the tomato slicked tiles, went tumbling down after it.

Thomas yelped in shock when something cold and wet hit him in the head. He gripped the edge of the guttering to keep his balance, looking up to glare at what would no doubt be one of the troublesome rabbits that his girlfriend loved so much. Instead he was met with the sight of a brown ball of fur rolling rapidly off the edge of the roof. Instinct took over and Thomas let go of the guttering to grab the bundle of rabbit in both hands, instantly realising his mistake as the ladder tilted backwards and the ground rushed up to meet him.

Peter closed his eyes tight, his little heart fluttering in his chest as a loud crack rang in his ears, followed by a heavy thump on his back. He stayed curled up for a good few moments before realising he was unharmed. Slowly, Peter tried to uncurl himself, struggling to push the heavy weight around him away. It was only when he brushed against the wet of rubber gloves that he realised the weight was Thomas's arms, coupled with the ladder that lay across him. Peter pushed off the man's chest, half expecting a barrage of angry insults. But nothing came. Concerned, Peter edged closer to Thomas's face.

“Hey, um.. good catch... You okay?”

Peter's ears fell flat against his head when Thomas didn’t reply. The rabbits eyes widened when some red began to drip from the man's head onto the concrete.

“No.. no, no. Please be tomato. Please.”

Peter leant over towards the cold ground, barely needing a single sniff to recognise the distinctive metallic smell of blood.

Benjamin rounded the corner of the house, having taken the safe way down to check on his cousin.

“Peter, are you alright!?”

Peter turned to Benjamin, looking a bit panicked. 

“Benjamin, get Bea! Now!"

Benjamin, hearing the urgency in Peter's voice, turned and ran as fast as his dumpy body would allow across the grass, thumping his feet against Bea's front door. Bea opened the door, peering around to catch a glimpse of who knocked, before Benjamin's frantic jumping caught her eye.

“Hey little guy.. what is it? You're not usually this worked up...”

Benjamin turned and ran towards the McGregor house, turning every few meters to check if Bea was following. Bea thankfully took the hint and gave chase, rounding the corner to the front of the house and freezing in horror at the sight before her.

"Thomas!”

She rushed to the young man's side, gently touching his face and neck, feeling a twisted mix of relief at finding a pulse and fear at the pale iciness of his skin. She fumbled with her pockets, pulling out her mobile. While Bea called for an ambulance, Peter sat on all fours, hunched up on Thomas's chest, his whiskers tickling softly at the man's chin.

“Come on, don't die now. The one time I’m not trying to get rid of you...”

Peter felt a strong wave of guilt wash over him. He hasn’t felt this terrible, or this responsible, since he'd blown up the burrow and crushed Bea's art studio. He hated to admit it, but despite their constant bickering and petty scraps, he and Thomas had become almost friends over their mutual love of Bea. He could almost go so far as to convince himself that Bea would be the only one to miss the young McGregor if he died. But then he'd be lying to himself. Benjamin hurried out of sight when the ambulance sirens sounded in the distance, but Peter didn’t even notice them, concentrating too much on the continued soft rise and fall of the unconscious man's chest. 

It was only when warm, familiar hands wrapped gently around his chest to lift him, that he realised that Thomas was being taken away. Being taken away meant never coming back. Peter began to struggle, only stopping when Bea pulled him close to her chest, hugging him firmly. She was silently crying, and it broke Peter's heart to see it.

“Come on.. we'll follow them.” 

Bea took Thomas's keys from a neat little hook inside the front door, well aware that her bike would have no chance of keeping up with the ambulance. She put Peter in the passenger's seat, pulling the seatbelt over him after a second of thought, and followed after the blaring sirens and flashing lights.

Peter sat the whole journey in silence, deep in thought. The guilt only stabbed deeper every time he risked a glance at Bea and saw her tear stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. He was to blame for this, and now she could lose the man she loved and he could lose his.. friend? Ever since he'd brought Thomas back from London the two had had an odd, if strained, relationship that had gradually evolved into near tame jabs at one another and light hearted pranks from the rabbit's side. He didn’t even know if the young man was aware at how fond the rabbit family had grown of him. 

Peter was jolted out of his thoughts when Bea stopped abruptly, scooping him up to hide him in her jacket. 

“Just.. don’t move. Please.”

Peter nodded, curling his little form close to her body so she could sneak him into the hospital. He spent the better part of two hours there in a dark corridor with Bea, waiting on any news. Eventually the adrenaline of all the events wore off and Peter drifted into a guilt ridden sleep.

When Peter woke it was to the sounds of a doctor talking with Bea, discussing what had caused the injuries that Thomas had sustained. Peter had. He knew that. But Bea didn't, so he listened to her tell the doctor that it was a badly placed ladder. If they were discussing that though it could only mean that Thomas was still alive. Eventually he felt Bea stand, her jacket muffling his ears a little but it sounded like they were saying that Thomas was awake and that she could see him.

Bea slipped into the private room, relieved to see Thomas blinking wearily at her from his laying position in the hospital bed. She sat herself in the chair by the bedside, wiping away newly forming tears. 

“Are you feeling alright? I was so worried.”

Bea took Thomas's hand, taking a second to realise his slightly distressed expression was due to her crying.

“Sorry, I’m not helping, am I?”

Thomas gave her hand a gentle squeeze, smiling through his aches.

“I’m fine, really. Just a concussion and a few bruises. I just can’t drive for a few weeks, that’s all.”

Bea seemed to relax a little, her thumb stroking small circles into the back of Thomas's hand. Peter, sick of all the lovely dovey looks already, started to squirm. Bea perked up, opening up her jacket.

“I almost forgot! I brought you a visitor.”

She lifted Peter onto Thomas's chest. Peter's ears fell back against his head as the man winced at the rabbit's weight on his tender ribs. Guilt reared its ugly head yet again as Peter reminded himself that this was all his fault and that his friend could have died. He edged closer to Thomas's face, being extra careful not to put too much weight in any one area, looking him in the eyes with genuine regret. Despite Thomas's obvious wariness, Peter lifted himself on his toes just enough to press his forehead to Thomas's. He tensed when he felt a hand reach round to the back of his head, expecting to be grabbed or yanked away by the ears. Instead a warm sensation of gratitude spread through him as the young man's fingers pressed lightly against his ears, Thomas returning the gesture with a soft press of his forehead. The young man sighed quietly.

“Stupid rodent...”

Peter smiled to himself. He could let this one tiny insult slip, he deserved it.


End file.
